


blessed be the boys time can't capture

by xerampelinae



Series: pull the blackout curtains down [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Galaxy Garrison, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, alternate universe - no earth invasion, buzzfeed unsolved - Freeform, multiverse resonance, paladin ensemble - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 10:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16617623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xerampelinae/pseuds/xerampelinae
Summary: “‘Hey demons,’” Keith drawls, eyes sharpening into what can best be described asFight me.“‘It’s ya bois.’ You can try to come for us, but if you try to touch him, Iwillfight you.”“What the fuck,” Matt whispers in the distance.“Look,” Shiro says, laughing. “He has literally brought me back from the brink of death. Twice.”The camera shakes in Pidge’s hands as she drops to the floor. “Matt. We gotta--we gotta call Dad. This is not a Two Holt Problem.”“I hope he sends Bae-bae in as back up,” Matt says, pulling out his phone.-In which some multiverse substitution occurs, sex is had at demonic thresholds, and Keith and Shiro are sometimes paranormal investigators.





	blessed be the boys time can't capture

“Dead men tell no tales,” Keith says, like it’s a valid and interchangeable phrase for when one has forgotten ‘I don’t kiss and tell’ or any other appropriate variant.

Members of the Coalition responses range across a spectrum: menaced and horrified (Garrison personnel) to placid pride (Krolia) to mild confusion patiently awaiting explanation (Blades). 

Across the bounds of reality, audio recorders and film cameras capture a different Keith’s words as he wanders across a threshold traced with sigils of a forgotten language. The boundaries waver. The house shakes and Shiro lunges forth to catch Keith’s wrist. “Keith--” he says.

Alarms begin to wail as the air crackles with energy; in their lions, Shiro and Keith turn towards each other. “Shiro--”

-

“The reason we work so well together,” Other Shiro says with almost humorous seriousness, “is that the blanket policy of fear-based handholding works with us.”

“Wh-” Hunk says. “What did you say you do?”

“Here at Voltron: Unsolved, we dedicate ourselves to exploring the unsolved mysteries of the world around us,” Other Shiro says.

“So, uh,” Lance says. “Why are you holding hands now?”

They all unwillingly glance down at Other Shiro and Other Keith. They are indeed holding hands.

“That,” Pidge says, “is not platonic handholding.”

Other Keith makes an expression that reminds Pidge of the one her mom uses on uncooperative Garrison representatives. His fingers unfurl and furl again, tightening around Shiro’s where they interlace. “Between potentially haunted and definitively decaying structures and meeting our apparent parallel universe counterparts’ cohort, you think fear-based handholding is out of place?”

“I think a better question,” Hunk says diplomatically, “is where Our Keith and Our Shiro are.”

Other Keith and Other Shiro shrug.

“I had a feeling you were mentally coding us like that,” Other Shiro says.

-

“Guys?” Civilian Pidge says, frowning at them over the top of a film camera, “what happened to your hair? What are you wearing? It’s not Halloween.” 

Shiro and Keith look between themselves and this leggings-wearing Pidge.

“Hm,” Keith says.

-

“I see,” Civilian Pidge who is apparently Ghost-hunting Keith and Shiro’s camera guy on their Ghost-hunting alternative media show. “So, you guys just as ride or die for each other as our guys?”

“‘Whether you fail or fly,’”1 Keith says, eyes soft as he tips his head back to meet Shiro’s eyes. 

For his own part, Shiro looks particularly besotted as he returns Keith’s look and tows him close, arms closing around each other as they conform to the armored lines of their bodies. They look like they’re half a swaying motion from slow-dancing. “‘Well shit, at least you tried,’”1 Shiro quotes back.

Civilian Matt--who is Ghost-hunting Keith and Shiro’s sound tech--groans. “How do you even know Lana Del Rey, you’re Futuristic Space Explorer versions of yourselves?”

Keith and Shiro shrug.

“What’s going to happen to the show?” Pidge moans. “I know you’re not really, you know, _’you’ you,_ but we have deadlines and the corporate overlords are going to start spitting fire.”

“I have an idea,” Matt says, grinning broad and fierce.

-

_“Hey, so can you tell the guys at home what’s going on?” Civilian Pidge asks._

_Sci-Fi Keith wanders into frame, orbiting closer to Sci-Fi Shiro._

_“Oh, hello,” Shiro says, eyes dipping down to the audio recorder Civilian Matt had semi-successfully tried to secret below his armor. “We appear to be currently experiencing multiverse resonance involving the substitution of alternate versions of ourselves.”_

_Off-camera, the Holts throw their hands up in the air. Keith sighs, but fondly._

_“So, did you guys train at NASA in your reality?” Matt asks._

_“At one of its successors, actually,” Shiro says, the picture of a propaganda-perfect recruitment officer._

_“You heard it here first,” Pidge says. “Also, like, what happened to your arm?”_

_“You can’t just_ ask _people that,” Matt yelps._

_“Aliens,” Keith says._

_The camera zooms steadily in on Alien-meeting Keith and Shiro. Shiro shrugs. “It happens sometimes.”_

_“What the fuck,” Matt says._

_“It’s weird how you guys are you but not you,” Pidge says. “Editing this video’s going to be a trip and a half.”_

-

“So, you’re telling us that this is a narratively distinct alternate reality in which we are intrepid space explorers who pilot impressively large mechanical lions that combine into a single robot for combative purposes?” Occasional Conspiracy Theorist Shiro asks. “And there may or may not neural synchrony per Drift Compatibility?”

“I understood most of those words separately,” Lance says.

“You’re a nerd,” Pidge says after a long silence. “That was a nerd explanation for a complicated scenario and it even makes sense.”

“We like Pacific Rim,” General Skeptic Keith says, staring her down evenly without whatever muscle mass and height his counterpart had gained on the back of a space whale. Sometimes Hunk has to stop thinking about that because seriously, what the fuck.

“Maybe my dad will have answers?” Pidge muses. “Guess we can’t leave Earth yet.”

-

Iverson tries to run when he sees Keith in his leggings and red flannel outfit. Unfortunately for him, Ghost-hunting Shiro’s amateur parking job in the Black Lion is successful if imprecise. The sight of the henley clinging to Shiro’s biceps and the overall lack of white in his topknot is too much.

“Why do they have matching hair?” Iverson says, sprawled in the dirt. Laughing, Shiro carefully cups Keith’s nape, just below where a tidy bun sits. “Holy god, what happened? The earth is doomed. The Galra will invade _again_ and Voltron will not be able to stop them.”

“Shiro,” Keith says. “Isn’t this the department chair from your college?”

“You know what, honey?” Shiro says. “You’re right.”

-

“Jesus christ,” Pidge squeaks, freezing. “Are you--were you guys seriously about to make out in the demonic threshold which may or may not function as a portal to alternate realities?”

Weird Older Keith draws back, readily meeting her gaze. Horrifyingly, his next action is an admittedly quick sweep of his tongue over his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of his partner’s mouth. “That is the least of what I’m willing to do at any single moment in time.”

Silver Fox Shiro sighs out fondly and stays where he’s pressed to the doorframe.

“Can you--” Pidge begins. “Can you guys say something for me, just once?”

“What thing?” Shiro says, eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully.

“‘Hey demons,’” Keith drawls, eyes sharpening into what can best be described as _Fight me._ “‘It’s ya bois.’ You can try to come for us, but if you try to touch him, I _will_ fight you.”

“What the fuck,” Matt whispers in the distance.

“Look,” Shiro says, laughing. “He has literally brought me back from the brink of death. Twice.”

The camera shakes in Pidge’s hands as she drops to the floor. “Matt. We gotta--we gotta call Dad. This is not a Two Holt Problem.”

“I hope he sends Bae-bae in as back up,” Matt says, pulling out his phone.

-

“So, what's it like for you guys to pilot the lions?” Hunk asks Paranormal Investigators Keith and Shiro. They’ve both taken down their hair, which is both long and well-maintained. Shiro rubs the tense muscles in his neck before dropping his arm comfortably over Keith. For his own part, Keith already has his impressive mane draped out of the way over his shoulder.

“Cadets,” Iverson growls.

“I admit, I have been curious,” Commander Holt says. Iverson sighs and falls into silent acquiescence.

“Fine,” Shiro says, honestly if distractedly as he maneuvers the Black Lion. Some of his bangs spill attractively across his face. “Keith?”

“Same here,” Keith says. 

“How.” Iverson looks like he hasn't realized he's even spoken aloud. 

“We've flown together before,” Shiro says easily. “Air Force.”

“Unbelievable,” Lance says. “Let me guess: along with having long, disturbingly gorgeous hair, you know us from that reality from being in the Air Force.”

“No,” Keith says. “We met the rest of you after we got out.”

“I mean this in the best way,” Hunk says, “but we're not Shiro and I don't trust you not to be fucking with us for the hell of it.”

“Fair,” Keith says, shrugging. Shiro, on the other hand, gasps in horror and looks like he wants to scoop Keith up into his arms despite them both being in the pilot’s seats of entirely separate Lions.

“I can't believe you'd say that about my best guy,” Shiro says, looking pained. “The man I trust most across the multiverse.”

“Are--” Pidge says. “Are Alternate Reality Keith and Shiro also married?”

“Wha--” someone says. “Why?”

“Mutual love, respect, and sound financial decisions,” Shiro says. 

“Los Angeles is expensive,” Keith says.

The comms are quiet as this sinks in.

“Keith cooks, too,” Shiro adds helpfully. “It’s great on our budget.”

-

“So, uh, is anyone going to mention the purple elephant in the room?” Hunk says in a private line with Lance and Pidge.

“The Galra?” Lance says unsurely.

“Too big picture,” Pidge says. “Think ‘purple alien mother’ in the room.”

“Oh,” Lance says.

“Yup,” Hunk says. “Exactly.”

-

“Hi Mom,” Hipster Keith says distractedly as the space wolf pounces on him, “puppy, Uncle Kolivan.”

“Hello, Keith,” Krolia says with pleasant mildness. Her eyes narrow sharply and Iverson gulps as her eyes hone in on him as the apparent culprit. “You seem to have undergone some changes recently.”

“Just crossing the multiverse through demonic portals,” Keith says easily. “I’m a different me than you normally see, but I brought my Shiro along for the ride.”

“Your young man has always behaved commendably,” Kolivan says. “It is very good to hear that he has your back still.”

“Keith!” Shiro says, jogging over. “Ma’am, Kolivan.”

They nod stiffly to him, but Shiro takes it in stride. Keith tips his head up and back as Shiro closes the distance between them; Shiro pulls Keith back into his arms and presses a fond, lingering kiss to his mouth.

-

“Commander Holt,” Sci-fi Beefcake Shiro says, ignoring Sam Holt’s confused sputtering, “is that truly your recommendation regarding the current circumstances?”

“Well, Shiro,” Ghost-hunting Keith and Shiro’s boss says, “in terms of the modern day, there’s really not much of a precedent for this sort of thing. Historical texts suggest that, well, blood magic is a bit volatile in general.”

“Ah,” Shiro says. 

“Shiro,” Keith says, clasping his shoulder. “It’s fine. We'll do it with cameras off, nothing to worry about.”

“But--” Pidge says, raising her hand.

“We're not making a sex tape to record the process of interdimensional travel via demonic portals,” Keith says, falsely tranquil. “For science.”

“Dad, what the hell?” Matt says.

-

“Dude, have you been drinking?” Hunk says, peering at Online Media Producer Shiro.

“Nah,” Shiro says. “I think we’ve been up about 36 hours now, we were on a night shoot when the switch happened.”

“Shiro,” Hunk says, “I know you know me only as, I dunno, some kind of food media producer who maybe works for the same company as you, but that’s not good for you.”

Shiro laughs, a surprisingly warm sound that Hunk can’t recognize. “I couldn’t leave him to face all this by himself,” Shiro says, eyes light on Keith’s back. Almost like he’s heard his name, Keith turns around and meets Shiro’s gaze, face softening.

“Or you could take a nap together?” Hunk says. Keith stands up, neatly sidesteps Lance who’s trying to bully him into a race, and makes his approach.

“Oh,” Shiro sighs, watching Keith. “You’re a Spitfire and I’m just a Hurricane, but I think we’d be great if we flew together.”

“Shiro,” Keith says fondly, stepping into his arms and wrapping his own around Shiro’s broad shoulders, “that’s what you said. After I’d already asked you out.”

“I thought you just wanted to be roommates and be media producers together,” Shiro says forlornly. His head bumps gently against Keith’s jaw, like an oversized cat.

“I did,” Keith says, laughing. When Shiro leans back in dismay, Keith presses a quick, sneaky kiss to his mouth. “That’s why I put a ring on it.”

“That was my _proposal,”_ Shiro says with false horror. Then they’re laughing together, arms tightening around each other. Hunk shakes his head and slips away.

-

“So, what do you think counts in terms of everything?” Space Explorer Shiro says, when they’re alone and pressed back into the demonic gateway. Space Explorer Keith’s hands gently unfasten Shiro’s flightsuit and draw it slowly down his shoulders; he presses a soft kiss in the shadow of Shiro’s jawline.

“We’re scientists,” Keith muses, breath warm on Shiro’s neck. Shiro laughs. “We can work our way up until something works.”

“But of course,” Shiro says, and then Keith’s dragging the flightsuit off Shiro’s arm and down his torso, down to reveal his navel and the line of hair trailing down it. Keith settles easily on his knees.

“Don’t worry,” he says, grin only just visible, “I’ll take care of you, Shiro. Just hold my hair back.”

“Anything for you,” Shiro says, hand obediently sliding into Keith’s hair, and moans.

-

Thunder cracks exactly once overhead before Other Keith and Shiro vanish from the shadows of their Lions. No one knows exactly when; they were too good at disappearing when they wanted to be away from the circus that was the Garrison’s attention. In the midst of panicked scientists racing here and there to discuss the anomalous readings, Keith and Shiro walk out hand in hand.

“Everything okay?” Hunk asks, head cocking.

“Never better,” Shiro says.

-

“Were you making out?” Matt blurts out when Keith and Shiro stumble out of the Demonic Threshold Basement together.

“Our lips are sealed,” Keith says, looking a glowing shade of well-fucked. Shiro’s hair is suspiciously neat whereas Keith’s is wild and loose.

Matt decides oblivion is the better part of valor in this case and tries not to think further about their flushed and rumpled appearances.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Fall Out Boy's "The Kids Aren't Alright". (1) is a quotation from Lana Del Rey's "Blue Jeans". I'm over on tumblr as xerampelinaekiss  
> Thank you to tootsonnewts for letting me write in your playground--Altea Unsolved is amazing and I actually read that before I started watching bun, which prompted this fic.  
> Thank you to spookyfoot for bouncing ideas with me.


End file.
